Hot and muggy. That sticky heat that gets into you and makes you want a shower three times a day.
It's after dark when Nick is approached by a figure that moves with an ungainly gait and is shrouded in layers of cloth, face obscured by shadow. "You are the one known as Nick? Prince Tillo requests your presence."
He had been waiting outside the community center for this. Leaning against the door, Nicks gaze flits up towards the hidden individual and offers a polite nod at the question, "I am yes. Your Prince honors me with his request, and I will of course oblige him." A slight bow of his head as he pushes away and gestures, "After you my friend."
The robed woman, the Fetcher, inclined her head and leads Nick on a long walk. Away from the center, and down an alley into the Undercity. Along tunnels that twist and form a labyrinth beneath the city. An old sewer system, that has been reinforced and shored up, expanded and used for a long time by the Nosferatu.
Eventually, she stops outside a heavy metal door and opens it. Within the chamber are many shadows, dim lighting, a throne of twisted rebar, burnt wooden supports, and decaying human bones. A scythe rests against the throne, and Tillo himself is seated there, position thoughtful. Perhaps broody.
Following along the Fetcher, Nick remains silent for now unless spoken to but if it happens he is cordial and at least charming. Once reaching the tunnels of the Undercity, specially after having been here in recent days, he does remark about the lay out from a defensive position. In its own way, it is rather beautiful.
Nodding his head as the door opens, he offers a wordless thanks to the Fetcher before stepping into the throne room and if nothing else, Nick would admit that the man certainly has style. Stopping a respectful distance from the throne, Nick offers a formal bow at his hip and speaks "You requested my presence, Prince Tillo, and I have come at your pleasure. How may I assist you this evening?" The man holds that position until he is spoken to, at which point he will then rise.
The door is gently closed once Nick is within, despite the gentleness, the mass of the door lends weight to the sound of it settling into place. In the way the air pressure changes within the chamber.
"Rise." The word spoken lowly as the Prince stands from his throne. Hunger radiates off of him, a famished Beast that could devour the world and still know hunger.
"What is your association with John-of-the-wolves?" He speaks slowly, a sibilant edge and a bassy undertone that is more leonine than serpentine.
The invisible hackles are there as he rises and looks on the man fully. Nick folds his arms behind his back and stands there in a stance that is two parts respect, one part to keep his hands under control. "You honor me. A business associate, ally and Packmate, Sir." Luna still casts her gaze on Nick as he attempts to keep his answer short and to the point.
"And he leads your... pack?"
Tillo is so inhuman. So -dead-. Cold flesh stretched taught on his seven foot frame. There is no small motion, no breathing, not even blinking. A talking statue that simply can't be bothered to pretend at something he is not.
"I will not insult your intelligence, Sir. You know as well as I, that a capable leader can rule unopposed and supported by their community. Others are torn down by their own 'supporters'. He leads" and there is the unspoken 'for now' but he means his words. John is in charge. Nicks gaze never leaves Tillo as he simply waits.
"Hmmm." The sound low, bestial - not quite a growl.
"You put your trust in him. To lead. It seems a few others also have faith."
"And yet, not a one can report to me that they know of his strength and his capability."
"Can _you_?"
On the other side, the old cistern is as it was. Mostly full of water that had been collected. It's dark, and something moves in the water. Something dark with long, multi-jointed limbs. It seems upset by the presence of a massive, fire scarred Hispo that is peering down from the old access hatch into the Prince's chamber.
"I leave that determination to you, Sir. You have spoken with the others" Nick says, not a question. Just a statement of Fact "and have seen for yourself how they measure up. All I can do is report what I have seen and allow you to form your own judgement."
Closing his eyes for a moment, he takes a deep breath to steady himself before opening them again...casting his gaze into the Shadow as he continues to speak, "You have seen first hand what our kind is capable of due to your own association with the ~Anshega~...the Pure Ones. So you at least have some clear idea of what my words will mean."
"I will now answer your questions, Sir. Firstly in regards to his strength he has certainly demonstrated his capability in that regard numerous times. His battle senses are a notch above others by far, as he has proven adept at striking weak points that others overlook and his physical strength has been proven by merit and deed. There is an impressive fortitude to the man that has earned him respect of many within the Accord."
"Now to your second point Sir, his capability. I believe that he has within him the potential to be a great leader to assist with the Accord, and a willingness to work to ensure that troubles that threaten those within the Accord are dealt with. To the rest of my group, I can say that each has their own values and ideals...but one thing we do share at least is that belief in him."
"With permission Sir, I would like to ask one question of my own at this point?"
If mention of the Pure ruffles feathers, there is no indication. An impossible to read, stony slate that simply stares and takes in all of Nick. In fact, he might be surprised if one of the ones he's pulled down here hadn't said anything - that in itself it's own indication.
"Ask." One word to grant permission to the pup to throw his thoughts into the air.
"If you have such a relationship with the Pure, why do you not simply ask her to join us instead of watching from the Shadow? I...We...may take issue with each other, however I doubt either of us are ignorant enough to instigate a fight in Your presence." Nicks eyes move from the direction of the man, towards where the Pure is watching from.
Something shifts within the elder, he is very good at hiding it - and the aura of unending hunger covers it as well. But where before it was sort of a passive aura, there's something sinister roiling beneath that.
"Another night." Dismissing the idea with a small gesture of his hand.
Whatever it is that changed has the Elder Crone furious, but it is tightly contained. For the moment. Or at least, not aimed at Nick.
Nodding his head with a polite smile, "Of course Sir. Thank you for your consideration." Rising back up, the smile fades once more as he returns his gaze towards the direction of the Prince "What other questions may I answer for you, Sir?"
"No. You may go." Tense, terse. That dangerous feeling surrounding him manifesting as a growling note in his voice. Turning, the gaunt half-giant moves to the throne and retrieves the scythe, fingertips sliding along the top of the blade, like greeting an old friend. Without a sound, he vanishes from sight, swallowed by the shadows.
"As you wish" the Storm Lord replies quietly with a bow before turning on his heel and makes for the door to knock on it gently so that he may be shown the way out.
The shrouded woman is there, opening the door and leaving it open as she starts to lead the Forsaken on a different, twisting route out of the maze and to the surface near the Community Center.
| 